


The Breton and the Vampire

by WhiteMarsh



Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Daedric Cults, Deviates From Canon, Eventual Smut, M/M, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-27
Updated: 2017-10-10
Packaged: 2018-12-07 21:01:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11631840
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhiteMarsh/pseuds/WhiteMarsh
Summary: Adrien Leorie is a captain of the Daggerfall Covenant's esteemed Lion Guard. Charged with investigating a series of murders in Wayrest, he is put on collision course with Faerindil, a bosmer vampire.





	1. Chapter 1

The sun rose yet again over Wayrest, briefly dyeing the city in pinks and oranges before the colors dissipated, leaving only stark morning air. Little betrayed that this was a city in dire distress, but to Captain Adrien Leorie it was very clear. He had barely rolled out of his bed this morning before the news reached his ears; there had been another murder.

It was as if grim determination alone carried him through the quick process of getting armed and armored, steadied his stride as he left the barracks, through the cobbled streets and out the gates, to a diminutive house on the outskirts. The house seemed peaceful, even serene in the morning light, but Adrien’s experience told him to brace himself for what was no doubt inside.

Montague took one look at the mangled body before bending over, retching. Adrien sighed but felt sympathetic, this was really no place for a recruit.

“Do you need to go outside?” Adrien would rather he did that instead of vomiting all over his crime scene.

“No sir, I’m fine. It’s just that…” Montague hesitated before continuing, little beads of sweat appearing on his forehead, “I knew her, sir.”

“I see,” Adrien said simply, but briefly placed his hand on Montague's shoulder as a silent way of offering his condolences. “We should get to work.”

Way ahead as usual, Lieutenant Purcell was already kneeling at the body. “Stabbed several times, just as the others,” he noted.

“Do we still suspect the Dark Brotherhood?” Adrien asked, coming over to stand next to Purcell.

“It’s not impossible, but I don’t think it very likely anymore.”

“Why not?”

“Five dead in less than one week, the Brotherhood doesn’t usually strike this often in one place.”

Adrien let out a long-suffering sigh. “And even if it is them we can’t do anything about it.”

“It’s not them.”  Purcell sounded very sure of himself and frankly it annoyed Adrien a little. “I think this is ritualistic in some way. I’ve heard rumors of a cult up in the hills to the north, they could be involved.”

“It has to be someone mad,” Montague piped up from where he was standing at the door, “someone mad and evil and wicked and I will personally wring his neck when we catch him!” He sounded borderline hysterical.

“Outside, now!” Adrien barked. The stress of not being able to stop this madness was getting to everyone in the Guard but that was no excuse for throwing a fit in the middle of an investigation.

Montague obediently slinked outside and Adrien turned back to Purcell and the corpse. “We should hurry up and finish here, I want to have her brought to the chapel before the entire city wakes up.”

The rest of the early morning was spent quietly loading the body into a covered cart and escorting said cart to the chapel to ensure the woman’s earthly remains were taken care of. It was nearing midday when Adrian and his men returned to the house on the outskirts and they spent the rest of the day scouring the scene and questioning neighbors. 

Her name had been Bernadette, a young widow, her husband lost in a dreugh attack earlier in the year. She had worked in the tannery, primarily crafting the leather straps used to fasten plate armor. As far as Adrien could tell there had been nothing unusual about her or her life, no obvious motive. It was as if she had been picked entirely at random, her name drawn from a hat. It was the same for all the other victims, nothing seemed to connect any of them.

Adrien was still ruminating over the details by the time he was finally hauling his exhausted self back to the barracks. He was busy unfastening the straps on his armor, which inevitably made him think once more of Bernadette, when voices rose from outside his chamber, followed by insistent knocking on his door. Opening it, he was greeted by Montague, who looked flushed and a little bit manic.

“Sir! We have apprehended a suspect!” He sounded almost gleeful. “You told us to keep an eye on the outskirts and well, this wretched little wood elf was creeping around not far from Bernadette’s house, covered in blood.”

Adrien’s eyes widened in surprise at these news. This was not how he had imagined it would go down. “A wood elf?”

Montague nodded. “Probably a Dominion spy, sent to cause havoc and terror in the Covenant’s capital. Or maybe he is simply crazy with bloodthirst, you know how wood elves are,” he added scornfully before continuing in a low voice, “she was missing her heart, you know. Probably ate it, the motherless bastard.”

Finishing redoing the straps on his armor, Adrien straightened himself. He had to see this for himself. “I’m going to see this wood elf.”

 

\----------------------------------------

 

The dungeon of Wayrest Castle was a dank, dark and overall unpleasant place. Adrien didn’t particularly like going there, but his duties occasionally led him down these very stairs, past the guard standing watch outside and through the heavy wooden doors. The cells were all lined up on one side of the corridor, most of them empty. Wayrest was in general a safe a prosperous city, partly because prisoners such as the one one the second-to-last cell were always executed soon after capture.

The wood elf looking diminutive, almost harmless and child-like, were it not for the blood trailing down the front of his peculiar armor, seemingly made from bone and leather. The guards had apparently felt that merely containing him in a cell wasn’t quite enough, so he was chained to the far wall with a heavy shackle around his neck.

He looked up as soon as Adrien approached the cell, dark eyes peering out from under a fringe of unruly black hair. He had horns, Adrien realised, bone-white and delicate looking. Adrien wondered if that was common among wood elves or something reserved for the more sinister and beastly ones.

The wood elf regarded him for while before his face broke in a crooked smile. Something about it sent chills down Adrien’s spine. “Captain Adrien Leorie of the esteemed Lion Guard, how good of you to show up, I was beginning to think this was a waste of time,” the wood elf said in a pleasant and relaxed tone that was in stark contrast to his wild appearance and current situation. In fact, if he was at all bothered by his fetters he didn’t show it, tilting his head in an inquisitive way and drawing up one leg so he could rest his arm on his knee.

Adrien didn’t respond. This was not at all what he had expected.

“Captain,” the wood elf continued, now in a more somber tone, “we don’t have much time to talk, so I implore you to listen carefully. You, King Emeric, indeed everyone in this city is in mortal danger and I am your only hope of saving them.”

“What in Oblivion are you talking about?” Adrien hissed, he knew he should probably call the guards, but surprise and a hint of intrigue kept hm from raising his voice.

The wood elf sighed. “You are not an easy man to get a hold of. I had to resort to letting myself get captured like this.” He shrugged, as if captivity was merely a mild inconvenience for him. “I am here to bring an important message.”

Adrien stepped closer to the bars, his hands gripping the cold metal. “What makes you think I would listen to anything you have to say? You should be answering my questions. Did you murder those people?”

A broad grin, revealing small, sharp teeth. “I’m sure you are curious why they had to die,” he simply states.

Adrien felt a surge of rage, the knuckles on his hands turning white and he gripped the bars tighter. “So you are confessing then?”

“If that is what it takes to make you listen.”

Adrien nearly laughs. “Listen? No. No, we have nothing further to talk about. I am going to tell them to prepare the gallows, you will hang in the morning.”

He turned to walk away, when a hand shot out through the bars and captured his wrist in an iron grip, causing him to let out a dismayed yelp. How had he escaped his chains? Adrien had only looked away for a moment. Realization dawned on him when he caught the wood elf’s eyes, now bright scarlet as opposed to the indeterminate dark color they were before, his skin several shades paler.

“You’re a vampire!”

“Indeed! And if you think this pitiful cell can hold me then you are sorely mistaken.” The grip on Adrien’s wrist tightened even further. “Now listen, because I will be gone long before sunrise; the hills to the north of Koeglin Village, there is a ritual circle and an altar, go at midnight tomorrow, you will find answers there. I recommend you conceal your presence while there, these are not people you want to reveal yourself to.”

The grip on his wrist faded, but so did wood elf, right before Adrien’s eyes, dissolving to a fine mist that swirled around his feet before disappearing under the wooden door leading outside the dungeon. Adrien could only stand there gaping. The prisoner had escaped, just like that.

Regaining his senses, he desperately banged on the door.

“Guard! The prisoner is escaping!”

As soon as he heard the lock click he pushed the door open, just in time to see the mist creep up the steps and disappear around a corner.

“Sir?” The bewildered guard asked.

“Step aside, he is right there!” He frantically pointed to the stairs. “He’s a vampire!”

The guard’s eyes widened and he quickly moved to let Adrien pass.

Adrien’s lungs were heaving by the time he reached the top of the stairs but he kept running, through the corridor, taking a left, down another corridor. The castle was dark at this time, but he could hear running footsteps ahead, it seemed the vampire could only retain his mist form for a short time. The footsteps would occasionally stop, then resume further away and Adrien knew the vampire was alternating between his mist and corporeal forms to confuse him and avoid detection.

“Guards!” Adrien roared into the darkness. Surely someone was stationed at the doors leading outside the castle. “The prisoner- oh fuck it!” He would save his lung capacity for running and sped up as much as he could, heading directly to the outer doors and bursting through them, he caught a glimpse of the vampire running over the bridge with preternatural speed.

“With me!” He barked to the guards standing outside, appearing half asleep. “The prisoner is loose!”

Waking up with admirable speed, the guards joined him in the chase. The footfalls ahead were constant now and he thought the vampire must be exhausted as well, unable to transform any more. It was with no small sense of triumph that Adrien realized the vampire was heading into a dead end, tall buildings on either side, his back against the wall that surrounded the city. They would get him and this time they wouldn’t merely capture him but destroy him completely, by morning there would be nothing left but ashes.

The alley was empty when they reached the dead end. Impossible, there had been to place to hide, no side alleys or anything. Something tapped his shoulder.

“Sir, up there!”

He looked up and there, cutting a striking silhouette against the moon, sat the vampire, giving a mock salute before disappearing over the wall.


	2. Chapter 2

Adrien wanted to punch something. He had spent most of the night and following day combing the outskirts of the city, but to no avail, the vampire had vanished without a trace. Finally back in his chamber after what felt like an eternity, he found himself staring into the tiny mirror over his washbasin. Pushing his blonde hair out of his eyes, he saw the face of a failure, drawn and grim. He had barely slept or eaten anything and it was showing. This disaster could cost him his position and he was halfway expecting the Lord General to knock on his door any minute to strip him of his rank. Or King Emeric himself. Adrien couldn’t bear the thought of facing his king like this.

_ I am here to bring an important message. _

Adrien knew he had to be seriously desperate to actually consider the vampire’s words.

_ Go at midnight tomorrow, you will find answers there. _

There was a couple of hour to midnight, if he left soon he could still make it. Almost automatically, his started to get dressed, not in his armor, but light travelwear.

_ I recommend you conceal your presence. _

He would go alone. If nothing was there, if it was merely a ruse, he would be able to get back before sunrise, but if it was a trap… Maybe it would be better than facing the consequences of his failure.

Feeling like a shadow of himself, he made his way to the stables and saddled one of the fastest horses the Lion Guard had available and with the moon as his only light, he rode to Koeglin Village.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Faerindil was lying on his stomach on one of the outcroppings overlooking the ritual site near Koeglin Village. He was hungry; his escape from the dungeon in Wayrest had drained most of his reserves and he knew he would have to hunt again soon, preferably tonight. Luckily, there seemed to be ample opportunity to do that, as cultists were gathering on the hill beneath him. When they split again, he would take one of them. He wasn’t stupid or reckless enough to try now, most of them he knew to be powerful mages who could burn him to a crisp with a gesture.

If would have been easier if he’d had a chance to feed during the day, but he had been on the run and his kills generally required a certain amount of planning and research. He didn’t randomly jump people and he prided himself on that, he was better than that. Ignoring the ache in his body, he waited patiently, hoped he had been right about the good captain.

Of course, he felt that he knew Captain Leorie rather intimately at this point, having kept an eye on him for a while. The captain was earnest and honest, an idealist, but also stubborn with a certain sense of righteousness. He would want to get to the bottom of this. He would definitely show up.

As if on cue, he heard sounds from the cliffs above him, someone was up there, no doubt climbing down to get a better look. Faerindil flipped onto his back and in measured movements brought a finger to his lips, hoping it would make his intent clear to the man perching above him, brandishing a shortsword.

_ Stay quiet and follow my lead. _

He gestured for the figure to come closer and after a brief hesitation he was joined on the ledge by none other than Captain Adrien Leorie of the Lion Guard, still holding his sword in front of him protectively.

“I should kill you right now,” he hissed.

Faerindil couldn’t help a small chuckle. “I’ll scream if you try, and they,” he nodded towards the cultist below, “will know you’re here. You won’t live to see the sun rise.”

Apparently conceding his point, Adrien settled down on the ledge, a respectful distance away from Faerindil.

Below them, the cultist were getting busy, unloading crates from a cart nearby and placing them near the altar, and above shone the crescent moon, sending down a pale purple light upon the ritual circle.

“What is that light?” Adrien seemed genuinely baffled by the situation.

“The Shade of the Revenant. Surely you are familiar with the phenomenon?”

Adrien gave him an incredulous look. “You mean...”

“Those crates are full of soul gems, grand ones. When exposed to the Shade of the Revenant and a certain spell they-”

“Become black soul gems,” Adrien said, finishing off his sentence.

Faerindil nodded. It seemed the good captain did do his homework. “Notice how many of them there are.”

“Why would they need this many black soul gems?”

“Nefarious purposes, I’m sure, but I meant the cultist. How many are there?”

Adrien was quiet for a moment as he counted. “Eleven,” he finally said. “Why?”

Faerindil turned over to his side so he was facing the captain, meeting his eyes dead on. “There were supposed to be sixteen of them here tonight.” He took no small pleasure in watching Adrien’s face change as he slowly figured it out. Sixteen minus five equals eleven. Five people had been killed recently.

Adrien’s grip on his sword visibly tightened, but he made no effort to point it a Faerindil. “So Bernadette was a cultist? I’m supposed to believe that? And if you were trying to wipe out the cult you didn’t do a very good job, they are still here.”

At that Faerindil cast his eyes down, a small concession. “I had hoped it would slow them down, or at the very least make them reconsider. I-” Faerindil clamped his mouth shut. Something was wrong, only ten cultist remained within the circle. “I think they know we're here, we have to move.”

In that moment Faerindil wished he had fed sometime during the day so he could simply disappear into a cloud of vapour, but in his current state he knew it was dangerous, if he advanced his vampirism any further he would be dangerously close to the edge. Instead, he carefully moved into a crouching position, Adrien mirroring his movement next to him, still warily clutching that damn sword.

“I’ll go northwest, you go southeast, back to Wayrest,” Faerindil whispered.

Adrien frowned and looked like he wanted to say something but kept quiet. No doubt he wanted to question Faerindil further but realized this was not the time, not with cultists potentially coming down on them any minute.

They split up, as Faerindil had suggested, in opposite directions. He couldn’t help occasionally looking over his shoulder to check on Adrien’s progress. He knew he shouldn’t worry, he had put his faith in the captain and so far he had not been disappointed. Besides, he had his stupid shortsword to protect him if need be. After looking back a final time, he made his way over the ridge, towards Glenumbra.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

When Adrien got back to Wayrest he couldn’t help but wonder if the abrupt end to their conversation had been some sort of trick. If the cultist had really been on to them or if the vampire had simply been trying to worm his way out of answering his questions. He had made it back to his horse unaccosted, leading him to believe that maybe it really was the latter option.

Still, there was no denying what he had been shown; some sort of cult was creating massive amounts of black soul gems, for reasons he didn’t yet know. It also left him with an uncomfortable dilemma. Should he tell anyone? If he didn’t it could spell disaster, but he if did it meant admitting to spending time with a wanted fugitive, a vampire no less. He was already in enough trouble as it was.

Sitting on his bed and looking at his hands, he made a decision. Tomorrow he would go to the King and explain everything. It was the only right thing to do, and if it cost him his life then so be it.

Feeling resigned, he went to sleep.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Adrien was washing his face, trying to look halfway decent before standing before his King, when someone knocked in the door.

“Sir,” it was Montague. “King Emeric wishes to see you immediately.”

A sickly surge of panic rose like bile in his throat. Surely this was the end. Of his life or career. Maybe the King already knew? No. He took a deep breath. This could be entirely unrelated… He knew it wasn’t likely. It didn’t matter either way. He was resigned to his fate, he had decided that before going to sleep. His biggest worry was that the King might not allow him to explain himself, leaving the Covenant vulnerable to whatever it was those cultist were planning. He couldn’t bear the thought.

“I’ll be there right away,” he heard himself saying.

In a daze he trudged his way to the castle, unaware of the morning mayhem of the city. Inside the castle he was met by the hall steward who guided him, not to the throne room as he had expected, but to one of the private studies upstairs. The steward motioned for him to go inside.

It was with a tremendous weight on his shoulders that he opened the door, but it fell away instantly as soon as he was inside.

“Your Majesty!” He gasped in alarm.

The High King was sitting calmly at his desk, but beside him, leaning casually against the wall, was the vampire.

Adrien’s hand went to his left side, before he belatedly remembered that he had left home unarmed. The King raised an eyebrow and the vampire shrugged. Adrien probably looked ridiculous.

The vampire sent the King a conspiratorial glance. “I think we owe the good captain some answers, Emeric.”

“That we do,” the King concurred. “Take a seat, please, and do not be alarmed. This man is an ally.”

Adrien could not believe what he was seeing, but nevertheless took a seat in one of the chairs on front of the desk.

“I don’t understand,” he said frankly, looking from the king to the vampire.

The vampire left his spot near the wall, opting to instead lean against the side of the desk. From this position he was looking down at Adrien and it was unnerving to say the least, yet Adrien couldn’t bring himself to move or lash out like he wanted to, not in the presence of the King.

“I never properly introduced myself to you, did I?” The vampire said, tilting his head, slanted crimson eyes pinning Andrien to the spot. “I’m Faerindil and I think you’ll be seeing a lot of me in the future.” A slow grin spread on his face, as if the thought delighted him endlessly.

The King cleared his throat. “This, at times  _ unsettling _ ,” he said pointedly, “individual is here to help me deal with the increased Worm Cult activity in Stormhaven.”

“But Your Majesty, you can’t possibly trust him!” Adrien couldn’t stop himself from interjecting. “He’s a vampire! And a wood elf, he could be a Dominion Spy for all we know.”

“Being a spy,” the vampire, Faerindil, said, “would imply that I have an allegiance, which I don’t. I’m an independant agent, I don’t care about your little war in Cyrodiil.”

“Captain Leorie.” Adrien’s gaze snapped back to the King who was now speaking. “I am in a very delicate position here. My very own citizens have turned against me, summoning daedra, opening portals to Oblivion and Divines know what else. What would you do in my stead?”

Adrien swallowed. “The Lion Guard could investigate-”

“The Lion Guard is loyal,” the King continues, “but ultimately acts as a blunt instrument. These individuals are pustules, blemishes on the face of the Covenant and excising them requires a precise tool. Faerindil is that tool.”

“I don’t understand. What does all this have to do with me?”

“Faerindil has expressed desire for an ally. His… unique condition makes it difficult to walk among the people unfettered.”

“Basically,” Faerindil chips in, “you are to be my light, go where I can’t, likewise I will be your shadow, go where you can’t. A brilliant arrangement if I do say so myself.”

“So all that, the murders, last night… Was that all some sort of test?”

“You could say that,” Faerindil said, nodding slightly to himself. “But rather it was a series of events that has made you intrinsically a part of this.”

“But what if I say no?”

Faerindil leant down, those unnerving bloodshot eyes moving closer to Adrien’s. “Will you say no?” He asked in a low voice.

Adrien thought for a moment. He definitely didn’t trust Faerindil, but if he agreed to this it would a good opportunity to keep a close eye on him. Besides, something was clearly going on with those cultists and whatever it was, it didn’t bode well. He really had no choice.

Clearing his throat and looking to the king, he finally said: “I will agree to this arrangement on one condition.”

The King raised an eyebrow. “Yes?”

“He,” Adrien pointed to the vampire, “does not get anywhere near you or the castle without me being present.”

“So protective,” Faerindil sighed. “I’ll have you know it is not in my interest to harm your King, but if this will help you sleep at night then so be it.”

The King nodded agreeably. “There is also the matter of accommodations.”

“Accommodations?”

“Yes, I have arranged for the two of you to take over a house in the residential district, near the eastern gate where Faerindil will be able to move in and out of the city unnoticed. You will be working closely together so you will need a base of operations, somewhere you can gather privately. Besides, I’m sure you will be pleased to leave the officer’s quarters in the barracks.”

“What about my duties as captain?”

“Officially you will still be investigating the murders happening in the city. Use whatever resources are available to you to unmask these cultists.”

“But what about him?” Adrien gestured to the vampire. “They have seen his face. And they know he’s a vampire.”

“No reason to worry,” Faerindil said smugly. “I can be a ghost if I wish to.”

Adrien slumped back in his seat, feeling a strange sense of defeat. This had all happened so quickly. Within a few days his life had been completely rearranged and what had before seemed like a straight and narrow path had now become something crooked and twisted, something he had no control over. This morning he had been resigned to his fate but he had never expected that his fate would be this.


	3. Chapter 3

“It’s rather lovely, isn’t it?” Remarked Faerindil when they reached the house that evening.

Adrien didn’t feel the need to reply, instead looking over to his… companion with a vague sense of disbelief. He idly thought that Faerindil looked somewhat ridiculous, dressed in an overly large hooded robe to conceal his appearance.

The house was a tall and narrow thing in two stories, wedged in between buildings on either side. The residential district was quiet at this hour, the only signs of life were the lights spilling out from windows around them and the wailing of cats in the alleys. Walking inside, they found the house to be sparsely furnished, with a modest kitchen and dining area near the fireplace on the ground floor, past that were a door leading to the alley out back.

“No basement,” Faerindil noted, sounding somewhat disappointed.

“Were you hoping to make a vampire lair?”

“Yes, where will I put my coffin now? It’s too heavy to drag upstairs. And I will have to acquire torture racks for the blood slaves.” Faerindil sighed dramatically. Seeing Adrien’s face, he added: “What? You don’t believe I sleep in a coffin? Or keep blood slaves?”

Once again, Adrien didn’t see any reason to reply, he merely stood there with a grave expression.

Faerindil moved closer and lightly tapped on Adrien’s breastplate with his knuckles. “You need to wind down a bit,” he said.

Before Adrien could stop himself, his hand had shot up to tightly grip Faerindil wrist. He knew he wasn’t as strong as the vampire but he put significant pressure the delicate looking joint regardless, feeling bones shift under his fingers. To Faerindil’s credit he didn’t flinch, merely tilted his head to look up at Adrien inquisitively.

“Did I do something to upset you?” Faerindil asked. The genuine tone of his voice only made Adrien more angry.

_ Everything _ , Adrien wanted to say. Everything the vampire said and did seemed designed to confuse and aggravate Adrien. Amusement twinkled in Faerindil’s eyes and Adrien briefly wondered if he could break the vampire’s arm if he tried. Instead he abruptly let go.

“This is not a laughing matter,” he ground out.

As if to spite him, the vampire actually did laugh. “But it is! Didn’t you know? Life is a jest, a big cosmic joke played on the lives of mortals.” Completely undeterred, or maybe to prove a point, he once again moved into Adrien’s space to knock on his breastplate. “If you want to make the most of it, you better play along.”

With that, Faerindil left to inspect the upper level of the house, leaving Adrien feeling unnerved and more than a little outraged.

Who did that little shit think he was? Coming into his life and turning everything on its head, stringing him along like he was some sort of puppet. He knew he had orders, from the King himself no less, but he also knew that if the opportunity presented itself, he probably wouldn’t hesitate to crush that unbearable, smirking skull between his hands.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

Faerindil was indeed smirking to himself as he was inspecting the bedrooms upstairs. He knew he should probably tone it down, try not to piss off the captain more than absolutely necessary, but something about the man’s clean cut appearance and righteous disposition seemed to bring out the worst in him. Adrien was a man who had not known hardship, not really. Sheltered, protected by the magnificent walls of Wayrest, yet he seemed so drawn and long-suffering, as if he bore the weight of the world on his shoulders. It made Faerindil want to poke and prod and tease, but he realised he would have to contain himself a little if their new partnership were to be productive. He had to keep the end goal in mind.

Finding the bedroom furthest away from the stairs suitable to his needs, mostly because it had a window overlooking the street, he threw himself down on the bed. He still hadn’t fed and he considered blaming his admittedly transgressive behaviour on the hunger. Every vein in his body was dry and chafing, he probably looked horrible too.

He sensed a warm body in the room next door, Adrien preparing to do to sleep no doubt and for just a moment he wondered what he would taste like. 

No, Faerindil knew he really had to go, right now. He stealthily undid the latch on the window and slid through the narrow opening. It was quite a drop down, but his joints were springy as a cat’s and he barely made a sound as he landed. 

The windows around him were dark, everyone was asleep. I would have been temptingly easy to sneak into one of those homes. He could feed to his heart’s content and they would be none the wiser. He could go for a beggar, someone no one would miss. Or, he thought to himself, he could get to work right now, he still knew of one cultist within the city. He had not fed from the other ones, instead taking their hearts to use for brewing Double Bloody Mara, but the last one’s heart had been lost when he had let himself get captured.

The hunger was beginning to get overwhelming, he probably only had a few more hours before he would enter the next stage. He had to make a decision now.

The cultist he knew of was located within the castle, a place he had technically promised not to go. Surely though, he would be doing everyone a favor, taking out someone so perilously close to the King. Adrien might even appreciate it, once over the shock.

Smiling despite the burning in his veins, he stole through the darkness, towards the castle.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

When Adrien came down the stairs the following morning, he immediately noticed something was off. Faerindil was reclining in a chair, feet on the table, looking self satisfied to an extent Adrien really didn’t appreciate. He also looked different to how he had the night before. Healthier, somehow. He was still unnaturally pale, but his skin lacked the almost translucent quality it had before and his eyes were brighter.

“Good morning. Sleep well?” Faerindil asked cheerily.

Adrien narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Faerindil. “You did something.” It wasn’t a question.

Faerindil raised an eyebrow. “Something? I did many things, you will have to be more specific than that.”

“You look different.”

“I had a lovely meal, if that is what you are asking.”

Adrien moved over to stand near the table, hovering over the vampire. “You mean you killed someone.”

Faerindil frowned up at him and he realized that was the first time he had seen the vampire display anything other than mirth or flippant indifference.

“Naturally I did,” he said. “I’m not in the habit of letting my prey live. Risking creating more of my kind would be highly irresponsible. Besides,” he tilted his head, that damned smile returning, “ do you have to defend yourself every time you eat a sweetroll?”

“People are not sweetrolls!” Adrien hissed, feeling anger bubble to the surface. “You went out without letting me know.”

“Am I your ward now? Your prisoner? I don’t believe that was in our agreement.”

“Well, maybe it should have been.” Adrien took a deep breath, trying to collect himself. He knew that antagonising the vampire would serve no purpose. If he wanted to protect the Covenant and his King, he had to make this work somehow. “Look, I don’t trust you and you know that.” He leant over the table so that their eyes were level. “But if you want me to trust you then you can start by placing just a little trust in me.”

Faerindil nodded, looking serious for once. “Alright.”

Adrien stood up to his full height, brushing his hair away from his face with an aggravated sigh. “So who was it? Who did you kill?”

Faerindil removed his feet from the table, shifting slightly in his seat. He didn’t meet Adrien’s eyes. “I may have mixed pleasure and business,” he said. “One of the scribes at the castle-”

Adrien saw white for a moment and Faerindil barely had time to jump out of his chair, narrowly avoiding being hit by the table as it was violently flipped over.

“You went to the castle?! When you promised not to go there without me?!” Adrien was practically screaming at this point, but he didn’t care, neighbors be damned. “How in Oblivion am I supposed to work with you?!”

“Listen to me!” Faerindil was holding up his hands defensively. “He was one of them-”

“I don’t care! We could have interrogated him at the very least!”

“I have tried that, trust me. They don’t speak, they don’t fear death, they only see that as a way to get closer to their Daedric Lord.”

Faerindil was clearly scrambling to explain himself, but Adrien wasn’t having any of it. He stalked forward, eventually backing the vampire into a corner. He knew in the back of his mind that the vampire to easily escape anytime he wished, but for some reason he didn’t even try to. Still, there was a certain sense of satisfaction when he grabbed the vampire’s throat, feeling a faint pulse under his fingertips.

Slanted, rubedite eyes stared up at him before closing. “I understand,” Faerindil said, resigned. “It won’t happen again.”

Slowly, tentatively, Adrien released his grip on the vampire. “It better not or, Stendarr have mercy, I will kill you.”

The threat hung in the air for a while, neither of them moving.

“You may have to, one day,” Faerindil finally said, “but I shall try to ensure that it won’t be anytime soon, I can promise you that much.”

Feeling the fight seep out of him, Adrien nodded. That was probably the best he could hope for, all things considered. For the sake of everyone, he had to make this work out somehow.

“In the meantime,” Faerindil added, sounding more like his usual self, as if they hadn’t just been yelling at eachother, “I have found something that might interest you.” He walked over to the flipped table and picked up a tattered backpack, producing from it a stack of documents. “These belonging to the scribe. I believe there might to a clue as to what their plan is in here.”

Effortlessly righting the table, Faerindil spread out the documents on top of it.

Deciding that glowering in a corner was counterproductive, Adrien came over and looked at the scattered pieces of paper. It seemed like a collection of poems and riddles, not something he would normally expect from a scribe.

“What makes you so sure this is related at all?”

“He went to great lengths to hide these over the floorboards, bit strange to do that with poetry, don’t you think? I went over some of it last night, there are multiple references to the Shade of the Revenant among other related things. I think this is how they were distributing their orders.” He caught Adrien’s gaze over the table. “In fact I think disposing of him might have slowed their progress significantly.”

“Are you saying I should be grateful now?”

“No, what I’m saying is that we are running out of time. They have their black soul gems, it’s only a matter of time before they use them. You saw it yourself, they have hundreds, perhaps enough to capture the souls of every man, woman and child living in the city of Wayrest.”

Adrien couldn’t help a small shudder at the thought, but something else was bothering him, a question he’d had for a while now. “How did you identify the cultists in the first place?”

“The other night was not the first time they gathered on that hill. They have been doing it for a while now and I have been spying on them. I have very good eyes and an ever better sense of smell, the rest was easy.”

“Then how come the rest of them yet live?”

“I don’t think the rest of them live in Wayrest, at least not on the surface.” Faerindil shrugged. “They must be in hiding. Not surprising considering what happened to their associates. I do have an inkling as to where the could be, though. Tell me, captain, do you enjoy hunting?”

“I guess?” Adrien was trying to figure out what the vampire was getting at. “Why?”

“Because I know exactly what is on the agenda for tonight.”


	4. Chapter 4

Adrien spent most of the remaining daylight hours attending to his regular duties as captain. Unsurprisingly, the castle was in an uproar over the death of the scribe, rumors of the vampire attack quickly spreading over the city. He did his best to seem surprised, or suitably grim, depending on the situation, secretly hating every moment of it. Deception and secrecy was never his strong suit and being forced into it was making him more irritable and short tempered than usual.

Montague was excited to see him, at least. Apparently he had been worried when Adrien didn’t return to the barracks after his meeting with the King.

“We came to a new arrangement,” Adrien had simply said, brushing off any further questions.

After ensuring that the guard around the castle was doubled, from anyone’s perspective the best he could do in this situation, he returned to his old chamber in the barracks, intending to pick up some necessities and personal items.

It was weird, standing in that room again. I felt like it had been ages since he was last here, when in reality it had only been little over a day. He felt exhausted, completely drained of energy, as if the vampire had been at his throat and not the scribe’s. Sitting on the bed with his face buried in his hands, he took a few moments to collect himself. He knew he shouldn’t stay, he was loath to leave Faerindil to his own devices any longer than absolutely necessary, but it was comfortable to sit here, surrounding by familiar smells and sounds.

He had more or less grown up in this building, recruited at the tender age of sixteen he had worked his way through the ranks, forging a path straight ahead. He wondered how he had ended up in this bizarre situation, working with an unreliable wood elf vampire to protect his people from a Daedric cult, all at the behest of his own King. He had always felt so certain of what the future would bring, but now he felt woefully unprepared. At least there was a plan. It was Faerindil’s plan, but a plan nonetheless and he knew he would have to put some faith in it if they were to have any hope of succeeding.

With that in mind, he got up and starting collecting the items he intended to bring with him back to the house.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

When Faerindil woke the sun was beginning to set. He was pleased to have slept better than he had in quite a while, a real bed did do wonders. He didn’t sleep often, the recurring nightmares were partly to blame, but he had also found that he didn’t need to sleep as often after becoming what he was.

Reluctantly leaving the covers, he sat on the side of the bed, fingers threaded together under his chin.

The altercation earlier had been unfortunate, but if had also made him realise a few things, namely that he would have to be more delicate in the future. It was clear that Adrien had a very low tolerance for antics, which, admittedly, Faerindil was rather full of.

And errant, unpleasant thought entered his mind.

_ You weren’t like this before. _

He had been a lot of things before. Naive, honest, gentle. Just a simple bosmer who spent most of his days reading under the boughs of the great trees of Valenwood. His books had all been imported from Summerset, of course, he had followed the Green Pact, at least most of the time. How much of that boy still remained within him? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was for the better if nothing remained. After all, that boy had been ripped from his home, stripped of his flesh and defiled in every way imaginable. Surely death would have been a blessing. Yet here he was, hollow and empty, merely maintaining the facade of a living being.

He sighed, irritated at himself. Why was he thinking about this now? Adrien could be back any moment and he needed to prepare for tonight. Thoughts of the past stubbornly swirling around his head, he went about getting ready, waxing bow strings and sharpening his daggers. With some luck they would see use tonight.

It wasn’t long after that he heard the front door open and the sound of footsteps trudging about downstairs. Finishing up with his preparations he made to join Adrien.

“Evening,” he said as he descended the staircase. He looked over Adrien, who was wearing an unmarked and somewhat tattered gambeson. “Was that the most inconspicuous suit of armor you could acquire?”

“It was the best I could find on short notice,” Adrien said. “Will it do?”

Faerindil looked him over. “It will do brilliantly. Where we are going you will not want to wear your Lion Guard uniform.”

Adrien raised an eyebrow questioningly. “I thought we were going to the sewers, why would it matter what armor I’m wearing?”

“There is a place I want us to go first. The people there don’t look kindly on authorities.”

He pulled up his hood and walked past Adrien, resisting the urge to tap him on the chest, it wouldn’t make a satisfying sound without the breastplate and he probably shouldn’t upset the man any further today. Adrien fell into step behind him, no doubt harbouring more questions but he remained quiet for most of the walk through the darkening city.

Having made their way to the western side of the city without issue, they ended up in an unremarkable back alley.

“A few things before we go in,” Faerindil said. “Pull up your hood and keep your head down, avoid eye contact and leave any sense of superior pride at the door, they don’t appreciate that around here. Finally,” he stepped closer to Adrien, wearing a serious expression, “do not tell anyone about this place. I’m taking a huge risk bringing you here, but…” he paused briefly, “think of it as a sign of my good faith in you.”

Adrien nodded, seeming to understand.

Faerindil knelt down and started pushing away dead leaves and debris in a corner of the alley, eventually revealing a trapdoor with a white sigil painted on it.

“After you,” he said.

 

\----------------------------------------

 

After climbing down a ladder and a short walk through a derelict sewer tunnel, Adrien found himself in a whole new world. Several pairs of suspicious eyes turned to them as soon as they entered and Adrien quickly ducked his head. Though he had never been here before, he had certainly heard of the place, the Wayrest Outlaws Refuge, an underground market for illicit goods and information. Makeshift merchant stalls were lined up along the walls, manned by shifty individuals with quick eyes and even quicker hands, counting coins and haggling with customers in hushed voices.

He briefly considered what would happen if he were to report this location and it must have shown on his face because Faerindil briskly tapped his arm.

“Don’t even think about it,” he warned. “This market moves location every other week, it would be a waste of time. Now come along.”

Faerindil led him over to what seemed like a sort of tavern, complete with a bar counter and rickety wooden stools. They settled down at an empty table, Faerindil casually leaning back in his seat. Adrien wondered what kind of drink they would serve in a sewer, certainly not anything he would partake in. Quite frankly he didn’t enjoy being here and would rather get this over with, whatever it was.

“What exactly are we here for?” He asked.

“You’ll see in a moment. Here she comes.”

Following Faerindil gaze, Adrien saw a sleek khajiit woman with silvery fur approaching them. 

“It pleases this one to see that you are still in one piece, young master Faerindil,” she said as she joined them at their table. She regarded Adrien with narrow, golden eyes. “You have brought a guest.”

“Ah, Tsavani, just the cat I was hoping to run into,” Faerindil said with a wide smile. He nodded towards Adrien. “This is my associate, Andre.”

Adrien decided to say nothing, it was probably for the better that he played along.

“You will have to excuse him,” Faerindil then added, “he tends to be shy around women.”

The khajiit snickered and it seemed that Adrien would have to wring the vampire’s neck at his earliest convenience, but for now all he did was shoot him a lethal glare, which was pointedly ignored as Faerindil went on.

“Any news of our cloaked friends? I’m running low on options and any tidbits you can provide would be graciously accepted.”

Tsavani hesitated for a moment, looking back and forth between them. Adrien got the impression she was contemplating her next move or possibly hiding something, but then again, it would seem everyone down here was hiding something, including himself.

“She may have something,” she finally said, “but her coin purse is light and she will require compensation for her efforts.”

“I’m sure we can work something out,” Faerindil said smoothly, producing a jingling leather pouch and placing it on the table. 

The khajiit’s eyes lit up with obvious greed and the punch barely managed to hit the table before she snatched it.

“Indeed it seems that we can,” she purred before leaning over the table and continuing in a much quieter voice. “There has been much activity in the tunnels under the market district and rumors say it’s not just rats and crocodiles. This one thinks someone really ought to go down there and thin out the pests.”

Faerindil nodded, looking satisfied. “Someone will see to it.”

With that, Faerindil got up to leave, apparently finished, and Adrien followed him closely.

“Was that really necessary?” Adrien hissed as he followed the vampire.

“What do you mean?” Faerindil asked innocently.

“Nevermind.” Adrien knew that Faerindil’s earlier comment about his alleged shyness around women was a weak stab at his pride and he thought it best not to rise to the bait. “Now I assume we follow this lead?”

“We do. I hope you are prepared because once we leave this area we will be fair game to whatever we might run into.” Before they left the underground marketplace behind Faerindil grabbed a torch off the wall and handed it to Adrien. “I think you will need this in there, I personally see rather well in the dark.”

“Not surprised, somehow.”

The vampire sent him a sharp-looking grin.

“You may not think so, but there are still quite a few things you have yet to learn about me,” Faerindil said, leading Adrien down a side tunnel. Adrien had a vague idea that they were heading north, but he wasn’t entirely sure.

“I’m sure there are,” Adrien replied, “such as why you would go such lengths to take out the Father of Vampires’ representatives here in Tamriel.”

Faerindil stopped and turned towards Adrien. In the torchlight his eyes appeared even brighter than usual.

“I have my reasons. Reasons I may let you know when the time is right, which is not now. All I can say at this moment is that I am firmly on the side of mortals in this conflict. You can trust me on that, at least.”

Adrien nodded. This whole arrangement still rubbed him the wrong way but for now he had no choice but to follow along. He would sooner give up his life than let cultists have their way around Stormhaven, and if working with Faerindil increased his chances then it might be worth it.

The narrow tunnel seemed to stretch on forever, winding left and right like a snake, only broken up by occasional grates leading to the sides, not big enough for anything other than water to pass through. I was a tense yet uneventful journey, but eventually the tunnel ended, leading to a wider area. Several pairs of eyes glinted in the darkness, reflecting the light of the torch.

“Rats!” Adrien made to draw his sword but was stopped by a hand on his elbow.

“Let me handle this.”

Adrien watched as Faerindil approached the rats, enormous beasts the size of housecats with large, protruding and yellowed teeth. He wasn’t sure what he expected, but certainly not that the vampire would sit on his heels and extend his hands towards the creatures.

“What in Oblivion are you doing? They are filthy!” Adrien hissed.

Faerindil looked over his shoulder with one of his trademark grins. “I'm making new friends, as you can clearly see.”

Adrien could barely believe his eyes when a particularly impressive specimen came over to sniff Faerindil’s fingers.

“Careful,” Adrien warned, “you don't know where it's been.”

“Was that aimed at me or the rat?”

Adrien sighed. “Either. Both. Look, don't we have work to do? Do we really have time to befriend rats?”

“This part of our work,” Faerindil said while stroking the rat's grimy fur and Adrien repressed a shudder. The rat chattered contentedly and then skittered off. “He works for us now.”

“Is that a vampire thing? Charming rats?”

“More of a bosmer thing, really,” Faerindil said with a shrug. “Most of us can charm animals to some extent.” He turned towards Adrien. ”Told you there were things you had yet to learn about me.”

“Well, it is hardly surprising.”

“You seemed surprised, though.”

Adrien made a noncommittal noise and they soon moved on.


End file.
